Clare Wu (9) | STAFF REPORTER
It was such a funny thing, language. Sounds and pronunciations, falling into line. Obscene chaos – forced into obedience. Letters and vowels and consonants. A language created something from nothing. He was perfectly in love with life, with living, speaking. Projecting his thoughts to the heavens, sharing this joy of his to
His happy inane chatter stopped. He bottled up his emotions, hid his smile, showed the world what they wanted to see.
Something from nothing. Something from nothing. He knew better now. Something can never come from
His voice became broken glass, and it cut everyone around him.
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His mind, once so free and joyful and young, morphed into something utterly unrecognizable.
He seldom spoke.